


Thanks to the Watermelon Martini

by LizaCameron



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s06e09 Impact Winter, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2019-05-30 14:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizaCameron/pseuds/LizaCameron
Summary: Post-ep forImpact Winter. Josh finds it within himself to be a "man" and goes after Donna.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

_"Working for you has been an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege… an honor and a privilege…"_

With a jerk, Josh woke and Donna's sad but stern face disappeared from his cloudy vision. 

"I'm sorry, sir, would you like something to drink?"

Josh squinted up at the flight attendant while he reached in front of him and let down the tray table. His throat was dry; he certainly could use a drink. "Ginger ale would be great."

He hadn't slept at all the night before. After leaving the Congressman's, he'd found a hotel close to the airport, but it had done him no good. While the noise from the jets taking off and landing was loud, it had very little to do with his sleeplessness. Twisting his neck to relieve the mild cramp that had taken up residence there, he reached up to rub it with his left hand, and that's when he remembered the crumpled piece of paper he was still clutching. 

Josh stared at the yellow sticky note that Marla Whorisky had given him with Donna's cell phone number on it. Anger rose in his chest. How dare someone give him Donna's cell phone number like he didn't know it? Like he didn't know her. It was outrageous!

He needed to give Marla Whorisky a piece of his mind. He knew Donna's cell phone number by heart, and he knew Donna. This Marla woman needed to know who Donna was and who Josh was to Donna and who Donna was to Josh…

His anger at Marla died right then and there. Suddenly, he knew that focusing his ire on some ignorant temp, who had no idea of the waters into which she was stepping, was wrong. Convenient, ultimately harmless, but wrong. 

Maybe knowing Donna was the issue. Did he really know her? He dismissed that ridiculous question; of course he did. They'd spent more hours together over the last eight years than he had with anyone else on the planet. He probably knew more things about her than her own mother did. For instance, he knew that she liked white wine, didn't like peppermint ice cream, and that she knew where everything in his life was and how it was run. Certainly, she knew him better than anyone else. But maybe it wasn't the same. Maybe all that stuff didn't really count. Because the Donna he thought he knew wouldn't quit without notice while the President was in China suffering through a devastating MS attack, and an asteroid hurdled toward Earth, threatening oblivion to all. 

His chest tightened and suddenly it was slightly harder to breathe. How could she leave him when he was in the middle of all of that? He'd been acting Chief of Staff, and she'd thrown a temper tantrum at him. Reaching up, he raked his hand through his hair—what little there was left these days-- and then took a sip of the ginger ale that was now sitting on the tray table in front of him. 

It was mid-morning, and he was on the first available flight back to DC after visiting Congressman Santos late the previous night. What a ridiculous idea that had been. Of course a three-term Congressman, who didn't even want to run for Congress again, wasn't going to run for President. He wasn't sure what had propelled him to make the trip. Other than Leo said they were the backroom and it was up to him, and then Donna wasn't at her desk. Without Donna at her desk, going into his office hadn't seemed like a trip worth making, and the next thing he knew, he was on a plane to Houston. A useless trip to Houston, as it turned out.

Donna had behaved capriciously in quitting, but he couldn’t let that matter. If he weren't leaving, if he was going to stay and see President Bartlet's term to the end, he needed Donna. Marla Whatever-sky wasn't going to fit the bill for the next year. Instinctually, he knew she wasn't going to come back on her own this time, which meant that he had to swallow whatever he had to swallow and go to her. It pained him, but the thought of work without Donna pained him more.

***

After buzzing Donna's apartment for the fourth time, he stepped back and pulled his keys out of his coat pocket. There dangled a key to Donna's front door. He contemplated letting himself in, but dismissed that notion quicker than it came. It didn't seem like a wise course of action after their last interaction. Why wasn't she home? Naively, Josh told himself that at this time, she was usually still at the White House, and tonight she wasn't at the White House, so she should be home. Surely she didn't take some night job, did she? 

A neighbor was headed out the front door, so Josh took the in and decided to at least escape the frigid December air and wait inside the warmth of the building. Taking the steps two at a time, he headed up to the second floor, and the door to her apartment. After about ten minutes of waiting, he slid to the floor, settled the bag he'd brought next to him and took out his phone. He could at least return some calls while he waited. 

*** 

Wearily, Donna climbed the steps to her apartment. It had been an emotionally wrenching couple of days. As determined as she'd been to talk to him, to demand from him to know where her job was going and if there was a chance for more responsibility, she hadn't actually meant to quit like that. But when he'd put her off, time and again, she'd lost it. Snapped. Now she had no job, no White House to go to every day, and no contact with Josh. She could honestly say that she didn't regret quitting-- deep down she knew it was the decision she had to make-- but the loss of all of that did make her sad.

Actually, the unemployed thing was what she was least worried about. She already had a job interview lined up, and was actually fairly confident that she'd get an offer. A job that would have nothing to do with Josh-- or mostly nothing to do with Josh; it was still in politics, after all. That thought actually hurt more than it helped, but she hoped that with time, it would fade. Her anger at his dismissive treatment was helping. though, so she focused on that. Her existence would no longer revolve around Josh Lyman; he was out of her life for good. 

With that thought fueling her up the last few steps to her landing, she stopped cold a few feet from her door. There, sitting on her doorstep, was the man himself. Her heart slammed against her chest as she slowly approached him. His sunglasses were inexplicably on his face, his phone was clutched in his hand, and he hadn't moved since she’d reached the landing, so she assumed he hadn't yet noticed her presence.

Wondering how long he'd been there, Donna glanced at her watch: 8pm. In order not to attract attention from any neighbors, she kept her voice soft. "Josh, what are you doing here?"

When he didn't move, she said his name a bit louder. Again she was met with silence. For a second her heart caught in her throat. Josh wasn't moving. Was he hurt? But then she saw his mouth drop open like it usually did whenever he fell asleep sitting up, and he let out a soft snore. 

Conflicting emotions ran rampant through her, tugging her in polar opposite directions. She'd been a bit on pins-and-needles the last 48 hours, not knowing if he would come after her or try to talk her out of leaving. She hadn't been sure what he would do, although she'd been pretty certain that he hadn't taken her seriously. Another surge of anger hit her at that thought. After all, that was the root of the problem, wasn't it?

But as she looked down at him, another surge of something entirely different hit her. He was adorable, sitting up fast asleep against her door, with his sunglasses on and his mouth hanging open. Many people wouldn't find that adorable, and she certainly didn't want to find it adorable, but she did. Some might say that that was the real root of the problem. 

She nudged him with her foot. When he still didn't stir, she knelt down, grabbed him by both shoulders, and shook. "Josh!" Her voice was sharp, the timber honed by years of experience waking him.

Finally, he groaned something unintelligible, and then woke with a start, his glasses falling halfway down his newly animated face. 

Concerned, questioning blue eyes met his gaze. Donna's eyes. Donna and her eyes were only a foot away. He mumbled groggily, "You came back?" 

Taken aback by his sleep-induced question, she stood up to find some distance from him. Crossing her arms against her chest to create a bit of psychological armor, she asked, "Josh, you're asleep on my doorstep. Why are you asleep on my doorstep?"

"What time is it?" He swallowed several times to draw some moisture into his once again dry mouth. Now that he was slightly more alert, he remembered where he was, and why. But if he'd fallen asleep, she must be getting home very late indeed. His gut twisted as the possible reasons for her detainment ran through his mind. 

"It's eight," Donna replied without uncrossing her arms or averting her gaze. 

"Oh," Relief stole visibly across his face. "I thought it was later."

"How long have you been here?"

"'Bout an hour." He stretched his torso, trying to get the tweaks out of his back from falling asleep on the hard wood of her hallway. Why was it that the prior night, all he could do was stare at his hotel room ceiling, but on the plane and here on this doorstep, his body shut down, forcing sleep in the most ridiculous positions? Perhaps he wasn't guarding against rest in those moments.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded as he rose to a standing position.

Before falling asleep, Josh hadn't entirely worked out what he was going to say. Her posture and tone were defensive, standoffish even. But in her eyes, he saw a glimmer of hope. Glancing around, he found what he was looking for on the floor. Leaning down, he picked up the paper bag. He puffed out his cheeks and then exhaled before offering the bag to her. "I bought you a salad."

"You're asleep on my doorstep and bought me a salad… why?" She knew why, but she wasn't going to give in that easily. 

Contrary to some speculation, Josh wasn't an idiot. He knew she'd been uptight with him for some time. He also knew she'd been angling for more responsibility at work. What he didn't know is what he could or even wanted to do about that. A promotion probably meant her moving entirely away from his office, and that wasn't something he liked to think about. He thought that if he could just put her off for a little bit longer, then they'd be out of office. Apparently, she hadn't been willing to wait. "So we could have that talk. I buy you a salad and we talk. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"It's too late, Josh." With a deep sigh, she shook her head and averted her gaze from his.

He tried another tack. "Have you eaten?"

"Huh?" 

"Have you eaten?"

"My watermelon martini came with a huge slice of watermelon. I ate some of that."

"I have food." He motioned to the bag. "Let me in and we'll go from there."

Narrowing her eyes, she thought about his offer. He seemed sincere and even a bit sheepish. Finally, she decided that if she wanted to keep him in her life in any way, they would have to talk sooner or later. And the fact was that no matter how much anger she felt, she couldn't contemplate an existence completely devoid of him. So that meant she had to talk to him. Wordlessly, she nodded her acquiescence, and motioned him to the side so she could unlock her door. 

Once inside, they both shrugged out of their heavy winter coats and hung them near the door. Josh wasn't sure what to do, so he followed her lead. She went towards the kitchen, so he went towards the kitchen.

"I'm making myself some tea to warm up, do you want some?"

"Sure. Or do you have coffee?"

She looked over her shoulder at him from where she was filling the teapot, answering him with a silent glare.

Recognizing the meaning behind her expression, he declined to push his luck. "Tea it is." 

"Or I think there's a beer in the fridge if you'd prefer." Reaching to ready a mug for herself, she didn't turn to look at him this time.

"Okay." Feeling like every word spoken was a landmine, Josh silently made his way to the fridge and helped himself. It was a light beer-- not his first choice, but he wisely decided to make no comment.

"Do you want some?" He asked tentatively after he'd opened the bottle. If she'd still share a beer with him, there was probably hope.

"No, the watermelon martini was huge."

Josh pulled out a chair from her kitchen table and sat down. Trying to sound casual, he asked, "So you were out drinking?"

"I was at Blue Gin," she replied as she opened the bag Josh had brought. Her stomach growled, even though a salad wasn't her first choice after drinking. She wanted… fries.

Blue Gin? That was quite a trendy spot. He studied her more carefully. She was wearing darker makeup than usual, and her sweater was black and just a tad tighter than what she would normally wear in the White House. She also wore a skirt and high-heeled knee-high black boots. A stab of jealousy hit his chest, even as he felt something primal stir lower. 

"Hot date?" He tried to ask with a smirking bravado, but it came out as more of a squeak.

"I'm home by eight, Josh." She paused for a second before asking, "Did you bring any fries, by chance?"

"Uh, no," he replied with a trace of humor in his voice. "But there's some of that bread that you like so much." 

"That will work." Donna eagerly dug it out of the bag.

"So it wasn't hot?"

"What, the bread?"

"No, your date." Again Josh squeaked on the word ‘date.’

Donna rolled her eyes as she started to unwrap the bread. "Margaret, Carol and Ginger took me out for an after-work drink. Well after work for them. But we only had an hour and a half because Margaret had to go back, and she was my ride."

"They took you out? Why?"

She looked him square in the eye. "To celebrate my freedom."

That hit him like a battering ram. Thankfully he was sitting, or he might have actually bowled over. She thought of quitting her job with him as gaining her freedom. "I see." He inhaled deeply, inexplicably needing to catch his breath. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. Those three were mostly still giggling over their cute-guy-bunker list. The asteroid scare gave them a lot of fodder."

"Did I make their list?"

She dead-panned, "No."

"Did I make yours?"

"I didn't make a list,” she replied as she handed him a fork. "I'm taking the Chinese chicken; you can have the Cobb."

Silently, he accepted the salad and studied her. She was mad at him, that much was easy to ascertain. Especially since the tone and delivery of her next words confirmed it.

"What are you doing here, bringing me a salad, Josh? I quit. Why aren't you being you about this? Why aren't you mad?"

"Because I forgive you."

She dropped the fork that had traveled halfway to her mouth. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "I said I forgive you."

"What exactly do you forgive me for?" Her voice and posture held unmistakable signs of warning. 

"I forgive you for getting angry at me when I didn't take time to have lunch with you while I was acting Chief of Staff, the President was suffering an MS attack in China, and a chunk of the sky was literally falling from the heavens, threatening our very existence. I understand you were frustrated and you quit in anger, and I'm here to forgive you for that."

"I see. Well, gee, Josh, don't do me any favors." She pushed the salad away from her, suddenly losing even her alcohol-induced appetite. "CJ, Toby and the President are still out of town, which I assume means you are still acting Chief of Staff, so I wouldn't want to keep you from your very important work. I'm sure you have to get back." Leaning back in her chair, she once again crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

"Leo's holding down the fort. Right now my important work involves getting you to come back."

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward. "Not going to happen."

"I see you haven't cooled down yet."

"Cooled down?"

He gulped, realizing this was going very badly. Not that he'd necessarily thought it would go smoothly, but part of him had thought she'd acted rashly, and would be grateful if she was forgiven and could take it all back.

"You have absolutely no idea why I quit, do you?" She demanded with a tone of disgust.

Now it was his turn to sit back and cross his arms. "Enlighten me."

"Come on, Josh."

"No, you come on. I gave you a shot and this is how you repay me."

"Eight years ago!" She replied with a significantly raised voice.

"You quit an important job in the White House with no notice, right in the middle of a whole lot of… crap going on."

"There's always a lot of crap going on."

"But-"

"Did you just hear yourself?" She interrupted huffily.

"What?"

"I quit an _important_ job?" She stressed the word ‘important.’

"You did."

"I was an assistant. You'll find someone else to tackle the important duty of answering your phone."

"That's not all you did!"

She leaned forward and grabbed his beer off the table. "Admit it; you've known I was unhappy with my limited duties for a long time."

Studying her, he finally replied, "You're mixing your alcohol."

"Liquor before beer, never fear," she replied, setting the bottle back on the table equidistant between the two of them. He no longer thought their sharing the beer automatically meant there was hope.

Engaged in some bizarre staring contest, they both sat silently, glaring at the other. It was true that Donna had imbibed a rather large martini, and while it had possibly made her tongue a bit looser than normal, she still had her wits about her and that made for a rather dangerous combination.


	2. Thanks to the Watermelon Martini

Not surprisingly it was Josh who caved and spoke first. For the first time in the evening his voice betrayed anger and his jaw was tight. "I've given you more responsibility than any other White House Assistant."

"True, no other assistant in the West Wing dresses her boss."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yet, it's one of the things I did as your assistant."

"And you used to like it. What changed?" Now his voice was quiet and he studied the beer bottle as he spoke.

"I grew. It hasn't been enough for me for a long time."

A vein in his forehead swelled prominently as his stress level rose. 

"I told you how I was feeling back before Gaza." She challenged after a moment had passed.

"Yes you did, but even then had you forgotten all you'd done? You were in last year's budget meetings-"

"Just because you weren't and I was the only other person in the department who knew the budget!"

"Exactly, you knew it. You were chosen because you knew the budget. You knew an incredibly complicated document, inside and out, and that happened while you were working as my assistant." When she was silent he continued, "During the shutdown you made the save on social security-"

"Which you likened to rookie luck and pretty well accused me of trying to hog your glory with that Wilt Chamberlain story-"

He ignored that dig. "I gave you pardons, last January you did the bulk of the work on them-"

"Just because at the time they were throwaway! You didn't want to bother with them-" 

"And pardons ended up with top-billing at the State of the Union," he shot back. He continued when she failed to rebut that. "You were instrumental in the trade bill-"

"Yet, I wasn't invited to Brussels to see it through. Besides, all that was pre-Codel."

"And the Codel was a sincere attempt on my part to give you an opportunity." His voice shot up at least an octave

"You sent me on the Codel to shut me-" 

"I sent you to Gaza AND LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!" 

They were both startled into silence by his shout.

A tear stung the back of her eye, but she quickly blinked it back. "What happened to me in Gaza is not your fault."

"Are you sure? Because I'm the one who sent you there." 

"Yes, I'm sure it's not your fault. God, you blame yourself for everything. I knew eventually you'd find a way to blame yourself for this."

"You don't blame me?" He asked with a quiet voice. 

"Of course not."

"If you don't blame me, why have you shut me out since the moment you got back?"

"I… I… I haven't done that."

"I've felt an awful lot of anger directed at me over the last few months, and I haven't been exactly sure of where it's coming from."

"I don't blame you for what happened."

"Then why are you so pissed at me?"

"Maybe because you kept me as your assistant when you know I could be so much more just so you wouldn't be inconvenienced!"

"That's not fair. You could have-"

She didn't allow him to finish. "Maybe it's because I have tried to talk to you about this numerous times and you ignore me and put me off every time. Six lunches, Josh. Seven including Monday, eight if you count Tuesday. You cancelled eight lunches! What was the problem? Am I so disgusting to you that you can't even bear the thought of eating lunch with me?!" 

"You know that's not true." His voice was low but his anxiety level had started to climb higher.

"Do I? Then why Josh? Why did you ignore me?" This time she couldn't stop the tear from forming and it was now balanced precariously on her lower eyelid already causing her mascara to run. "Why cancel ALL the lunches? Even then… even if I wasn't important enough to you to warrant the time for a full lunch, why wouldn't you at least give me the five minutes I'd asked for in your office Monday afternoon when it became clear lunch was never going to happen? You want to know why I’m angry!? I want to know why after eight years together you had so little respect for me!"

"Because I was terrified of you leaving!" Once the words were out of his mouth he had the uncontrollable desire to reel them back in, but he couldn't and it was if they were in a cartoon bubble hanging over his head for all eternity. He'd said them and there was no way to reverse it.

"Well I’m gone now so how did that plan work out for you?" 

Shock rocketed through him at that response. He sat for a few seconds before standing abruptly. "I really don't know you anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

His voice was devoid of anger and filled with sadness when he spoke. "You don't give a damn about me, do you?"

Now it was Donna's turned to look shocked. "I… uh…" she tried to refute his statement, but no words came.

"I thought you knew me better than anyone in the world." He started walking towards her living room.

"I do," was her choked response.

He paused at the opening to the living room and looked back to her. "What is the one thing I fear, Donna? What keeps me up at night? Losing people that I care about. You were one of those people, if not the person and even knowing that, you just walked out on me with apparently no remorse and without a second of notice. I felt devastated when I realized you were really gone… but leaving me obviously hasn't affected you at all. I came here tonight… God, I don't know why I came here tonight. I shouldn’t have come." 

"Wait." She jumped to her feet.

But he didn't stop walking. When he got to the front door he fumbled for his coat, but he didn't bother to put it on, he just reached for the door knob. He just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. The door was open a crack before Donna's hand landed powerfully on it forcing it back shut. "I said wait!"

"What?" He asked without turning back to her.

"I'm sorry I said that." Several plump tears finally rolled down her cheeks unchecked. "I'm furious at you, but you don't deserve for me to ever say something like that. Of course I give a damn about you and if the thought of leaving you left me unaffected, I would have done it years ago."

Swallowing hard, he slowly faced her. Their eyes met. Josh's heart clenched at the tear streaks down her face. His voice was soft when he spoke, "I'm furious at you, too."

"I know." She sniffed.

"I'm just better at hiding it."

Nodding, she took him by the wrist and led him over to the couch. They plopped down next to each other. "What are we going to do?" he asked gently.

"I don't know."

"I don't like being furious with you."

"I don't like being furious with you, either."

After a minute of silence, Josh finally said. "If you came back I promise-"

She quickly interrupted him. "I can never be your assistant ever again. Never mind that the reason I left is to find career advancement, a boss and assistant should never need to have an argument like the one we just had… are having."

"No." he sighed deeply. "They probably shouldn’t."

"I know you Josh." She replied after a heavy silence.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I knew that my leaving would hurt you, but I couldn't get your attention and I felt I had no choice. I felt like you had given me no choice. But I knew it would hurt you and I did it anyway. I'm sorry for that."

He soaked that in and then furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure I know you."

"Of course you do."

"No… yesterday, there was a temp sitting in your chair."

"Marla Whorisky."

Josh laughed humorlessly. Of course Donna would know and remember all the details. "When I asked where you were, she said you had a new job, but that you'd left a cell number. Which she proceeded to write," He leaned back on the couch in order to dig the crumpled note out of his pocket. "On this sticky note." Donna took the note from him and stared at it. "She handed me your damn number on a sticky note like I didn't know it, like we didn't know each other at all."

"That doesn't mean-" 

He silenced her with a shake of his head. "It's true. I haven't known what's going on with you since you got back from Germany. Part of that is my fault and part of it's yours. You shut me out, I didn't push. At times I was a thoughtless jerk-- like I've been so many times in the past-- but instead of being amused by me and laughing and putting me in my place, you just got angrier. The rules changed between us and I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing."

"Josh…" There was a slight, husky change in her voice, but Josh didn't pick up on it.

"What?" 

When she failed to answer, he turned towards her and that's when she pounced. Before he knew what happened she was kissing him. Donna's warm, supple mouth was pressed sensuously against his own and it only took several second for him to process the situation before he began kissing her back in earnest. Parted lips moved in passionate unison and their tongues began dancing a delicious and seemingly endless tango. After some time, drunk on the kiss, each other and in Donna's case a Watermelon Martini they somehow rolled off the couch and toppled to the floor in a fully-clothed, yet newly erotic, heap. It most likely occurred when Josh attempted to pull her towards him and onto his lap for better leverage and she lost her balance. Since neither was willing to break their new and exhilarating connection, Josh had no choice but to instinctively tumble down after her.

On the floor, they lay side by side, sort of, their limbs entangled as hands and fingers and even boot and shoe covered feet explored and touched every inch of the other. And through it all their lips never lost the powerful physical connection that had ignited such a passionate embrace in the first place. Almost a half an hour after the kiss began their lips finally parted. Now panting they lay on the floor, still wound together, gazing at each other through heavy-lidded eyes.

A quick check of their state of being would have told them that Josh's shirt was untucked and was now missing several buttons at the bottom and his pants were undone even though no straining body part—and something was straining-- had found its way into the open. Mostly. As for Donna her unhooked bra was now swimming loosely under her tight sweater which itself was twisted to expose expanses of smooth pale skin of both her tummy and back, and her skirt was hiked up and over her hips so her legs could more freely tangle with his. Her hair was as tousled and unkept as it had probably ever been. Josh's would have been just as mussed and altered for all the times Donna had run her hands through it in the last thirty minutes, that is if it didn't already naturally look like someone had taken a weedwacker to it. 

"What was that?" He finally asked in a hoarse, breathless whisper. A smile played at the line of his mouth as he searched her eyes for answers.

"Just trying to see if that might fix any of our problems."

"Did it work?" He asked as his fingers idly stroked the smooth skin of her exposed back.

"Well I'm feeling much less furious with you. What about you?"

"I'm currently experiencing a furor, but it's of the non-angry variety."

They continued to lie on the floor as Donna brought a hand up to cup his cheek, letting her thumb trace the indentation of his cheek and dimple. Finally, she spoke. "You're right, I did change the rules… but things weren't easy for me when I got back."

Josh breathed in and out several times, feeling himself switch gears from passion back to their serious conversation. "I know they weren't… why didn't you let me help you?"

"Lots of reasons... some had everything to do with you, some nothing." She replied thinking back to that fateful conversation she'd had with CJ during the lockdown. 

"Do you want to tell me about any of them?"

She thought about it and answered truthfully, "Someday maybe, but for now I think we just cured a lot of my… issues."

"Well my lips been known to have amazing restorative pow-"

She silenced his egotistical musing with a second kiss. When they broke this time he smiled smugly at her and then twisted his neck so he could survey the room and their current disheveled position in it. "Hey, when did we fall on the floor?"

"I have no idea." She answered truthfully.

"We should probably get up?" He raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"I kind of like it down here." She pressed her hips suggestively against his.

"Yeah?" Josh groaned, so aroused he couldn't even manage a smirk.

"Yeah," she replied as she curled her top leg even tighter around his. 

Josh leaned in and found a sensitive hollow of her neck and was pleased to hear her moan in response. After a few minutes of tender exploring he asked between soft kisses, "So you wanted to solve problems, but what possessed you to do that right at that moment? One minute you were furious and the next you were sucking my face off. I'm not complaining," He licked a path up her jaw so he could whisper in her ear, "But I have to say I honestly wasn't expecting it. Were you just so turned on, you couldn't wait another minute?"

Donna's eyes had been closed enjoying the sensations he was creating with him lips and tongue on her skin, but at that question her eyes popped open. Josh however didn't stop his ministrations on the skin beneath her ear; thusly her speech was a tad husky and peppered with the occasional squeak or moan. "I was so damn tired of not doing it. Of tap-dancing around something that we both wanted. Besides after I quit there didn't seem to be much reason not to. Oh… and the Watermelon Martini didn't hurt."

"Well then special thanks are owed that Watermelon Martini." He leaned back in order to wag his brow at her. "So you've wanted to kiss me for a long time, eh? Can't say I blame you, I'm-"

"Okay, that's enough." Before he could go any further she interrupted him. "Now it's your turn to say something nice."

"Something nice?" He crinkled his forehead in question.

"Yes, something nice."

"I like that you kissed me. You're an excellent kisser."

"Okay, that was nice. But not what I meant. Something a bit more… emotional, maybe?"

"Right," he sighed. "Emotional… um… okay on Monday, when we thought the world might be ending…"

"Yeah?" Donna asked almost eagerly.

"The guy. The NASA guy, he lamented to me that he'd loved a man once and never told him. You know what my first reaction to that was?"

She shook her head as her heart began to pick up the pace.

"Well actually the first thing I thought was that he had just chosen to come out of the closet to me, and that made me slightly uncomfortable as I'm completely ill-equipped to deal with such a situation. But the second thing I thought about was whether or not I had people I hadn't told things to that I should… you know… if it really were the end."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And?" 

"What?" He raised his eyebrows in question. "Oh that's the end of the story."

For that she maneuvered so she could punch him lightly in the stomach.

"Ouch." He faked injury by hunching slightly, but he didn't get very far since they were very much still wrapped together. After he was threw acting he met her eye and asked sincerely. "Are you sure you won't come back to work."

"I'm sure."

"Positive?"

"We just made out, even if it was an option, which it isn't, it probably shouldn't be anymore." She countered practically. 

"Well…" He took a fortifying breath. "Then I can tell you that moments after I found out the world wasn't ending, I found out that you'd left… and you leaving was a much worse feeling. You leaving felt like the end of my world. And so if it were really the end, I'd want you to know how much you mean to me… how much I care about you."

She blinked several times "Okay, that was pretty good." 

"Does it qualify as me saying something nice?"

"I uh… definitely think it qualifies as nice." 

With the back of his hand he traced side of her face. "I'm so sorry I put off our lunches, I guess I thought I could put off the inevitable. You have no idea how sorry I am that I made you feel like you weren't worth my time… although if you making-out with me is the consequence of that it's getting easier to live with." He bent slightly forward so he could nuzzle her cheek again, pressing soft kissed across her jaw towards her ear.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked almost shyly as he continued nibbling on her ear.

With an almost imperceptible shake of his head he sighed into her skin, "I'm not sure, but I think we should make falling on the floor together without realizing it a regular occurrence."

"Me, too." She agreed breathlessly and with that he happily rolled onto his back pulling her on top of him. Neither one knew what the future held, but both felt excited at the prospect of holding on to one another. Of course neither of them also had any idea that a Congressman in Houston was diligently reading and rereading a certain nine point plan unable to get the idea of running for President out of his mind nor that the Vice President's newly-minted Campaign Manager was reading Donna's resume determined to bring her on board at all costs.


End file.
